Dovahkiin- Naal Ok Zin Los Vahriin
by TheRaven1428
Summary: Four-Thousand years after Vicktorriya's supposed Death/Fade in 1E 128; she has come forward in time to 4E 201. Her along with TWO other dragonborns will save Tamriel. But when Tori meets Harkon once more; will she care about Skyrim, or her Love? -I probably went over-dramatic on this summary. If you think you'll like, read.
1. Chapter 1

Dovahkiin- Naal Ok Zin Los Vahriin Chapter One

**Okay, I'm alive. Please don't kill me. I wanted to try to make a story were its not like "We fell into a video game!" It will be like waking up on the cart and such… same old same old. I'll try not to make the character a Mary-Sue. I'm not in collage, or a novelist, or anything like that. I'm not going to make her ****perfect****, but 'she' will be pretty, good with daggers and bows- I like Archery- but will have a dark past. 'She' will be named in this chapter, and if you don't like it, don't say anything. If nothing positive is going to come from you, I don't want to freaking hear it.**

** T**_he_**R**_aven_

It _was_ a trap. Galmar was right; he shouldn't have come out here. His men were fighting, and were _losing._ Ulfric thought it was some sick joke of the Nine. He was fighting _for _the Nine! Not against them, he believed in Talos and he believed in Sovngarde. But it seemed like Sovngarde and Talos didn't believe in him. He slashed at Imperial after Imperial with his steel axes and used his Voice to its fullest extent.

Ulfric heard a fierce battle cry behind him, and turned to see an Imperial Officer ready to deliver a killing blow, when a white- or, it _was _white…- arrow shot through his skull, and he saw a young, but beautiful, snow-pale, elf with a Vengeance and a Venom to her insults. There was- 'Should I fight you with my eyes closed Imp? Would that make your wimpy "Heart" feel better?' and 'Tell me when you'll actually try milk-drinker!' his favorite seemed to be- 'Ha! I smile at the face of "_Death"_ Imp!'

She never lost an arrow as she slashed around, shooting her bow and stabbing Imperials with Long-Daggers and what looked like six pointed stars made of a shining metal. What confused the Jarl was her sweet-heart neckline, long bell sleeved, pale golden, almost gauzy dress that glittered like the Sun. The Jarl never understood how women could run around in floor length gowns. He would have assumed her Altmeri were it not for her white as snow skin, and foreign (Norse/Irish… _Ish_) accent.

"Vicktorriya is in danger men! Protect the-" An elven man, older than her, started to say and then was shot down by an Imperial. _Vicktorriya…. _Her name didn't sound like any he ever heard. She had soft and small Breton like features. He thought; _Why does such a blood-thirsty young woman need to be protected? _When he saw her get knocked out by a lucky and not planned hit in the head from an Imperial Officer.

"Stand down men!" Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm, didn't even register what he had even spoken. He just, did it. Everyone was bound and thrown into carts. The girl, Vicktorriya was thrown onto the same cart as him and Ralof, along with a wanted thief. The thief grumbled and complained a bunch. Ulfric didn't like him one bit; besides the fact that he was a thief.

The cart started moving, and the Jarl of Windhelm had a feeling that this was going to be a long way to Cyrodiil. Or wherever their end would meet.

…...

Vicktorriya's head was throbbing slightly and there was rickety movement all around her. Her large, golden –like a septim- eyes opened and she immediately sat up, and then regretted it as the sun shone directly into her waking eyes. "Hey you; you're finally awake. You were trying to cross the border right? Walked straight into that Imperial ambush… Same as us, and that thief over there." A Stormcloak soldier said to her.

Before the Imperial thief could open his mouth and whine like a bratty child, Tori got there first. "I was not _trying to cross the border. I did, cross the border. _I had papers and everything, I just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time." She said calmly, but there was a venomous edge that made even the cart driver flinch.

"Easy there, Spitfire! I did not pay attention to your party. I was very busy with mine." Ralof said quickly. Her "delicate" golden eyes narrowed at 'Party' and looked like she wanted to breathe fire. Ulfric raised his bound hands and put a hand on her right forearm. Tori looked at him, and seeing the calm in his stormy grey eyes, she calmed too.

"Why are we stopping; what's happening?" The thief, Lokir said all at once, blurted in stress of being put into the Welcoming Hands of Death.

"_Death has come… He welcomes you, with open arms; today…. The mirror has broken, and there's no one left breathing- now…. Come into the afterlife with me, and we shall put back the pieces. The rain has come, and the clouds will play… today, I walk with Death…" _She sang in a sweet, yet disturbing melodic voice. It wavered slightly, but nobody was perfect. The group jumped from the cart, and the girl's golden, waist length waves of blonde with slight brown highlights covered part of her face, casting a shadow over the young woman.

"Step towards the block when we call your name; one at a time!" An Imperial Legionnaire barked. The elfish girl looked around, pretending to be lost in the skies. Ulfric was impressed with the girl's acting skills. When an Officer asked who she was, she looked towards them and quickened her breath and made it shallow.

"It's alright. Come up here, we just want to know your name lass." She shook her head and made wild gestures. They all looked at her confused. She stopped and sighed. Tori pointed at her throat and her mouth; opening and closing it- and shook her head. "Ah, you can't speak little lass-?" She shook her head furiously. The Stormcloaks and some of the Imperials were laughing silently at her impressive final act. The two in front of her did not notice.

"Can you write, little lass?" Head shake. "Captain, I don't think this girl could do anything harm-" The Officer started, but the Captain cut him off.

"Multiple Daggers and a Bow were taken from her. She fought our men, Hadvar, with the Rebels. She dies today." Her last sentence was filled with acid. The girl made her lip tremble. Everyone who saw her fight had to say she was a darn good actress. She could probably fake her death near a healer.

The Captain dragged her over to the Jarl and held her close to him, inspecting similarities and then teased the two about being Father and Daughter and it was a trick made by the Stormcloaks. They had the same hair color, fair complexion –She was paler, _way _paler-and full pink lips. Well, they might be pink. She had on Blood Red lipstick and a symbol drawn under her right eye. It was a small black crescent waning moon. Just over her heart was a huge, slightly angled "X" shaped scar. Going from the left side and down, was a three inch pink, skinny line. The other line was slightly thicker and angled a bit. It was three ½ to four inches long. How she survived, no one but she and the scar-maker know.

Ulfric couldn't watch as the first soldier's head was cut off. Vicktorriya stared on, and watched, silently singing the song she sang earlier. "Next, the Girl!" The Captain called. Tori walked up to her, with a Gold Fire in her eyes, and Poison in her next words that felt like a Viper's Bite as soon as they bit in.

"_**Burn in Oblivion, teen murdering Hag.**_" The Captain reeled back, and looked shocked, the "Rebels" laughed, along with some Imperials that knew that her silence was nothing but a game.

Just as the axe was about to fall, a black dragon dropped from the sky, and _literally _rained hell upon them. A soldier had cut off Ulfric's binds and handed him his axe. He ran over before Ralof could help and dragged the small elf over to a tower before the impending doom of hot rocks the size of tables and great fires could hurt her.

Someone closed the tower door when the three rushed in, and another cut off her binds and handed her the white bow and her multiple daggers and knives. She fastened them on real quick too.

"Jarl Ulfric, what was that thing? Could the Legends be true?" Ralof asked him. Just as Ulfric was going to say that legends usually don't burn down petty villages, Tori took the words out of his mouth.

"Legends don't burn down small villages with animals and children. Dragons do though-" At Ralof's shocked eye widening, she stopped, looked at him and said coolly "What; you don't think that was a Dragon? Want to step outside and check for us? It's a little hot though…"

"We need to move, now!" Ulfric barked, and the three ran up the stairs, just as they were about to reach the middle, Vicktorriya pulled the two back as a black dragon head knocked down the walls and breathed some fire, and flew away. "See the inn on the other side? Let's see if we can get out through there." They jumped and The Jarl and Elf were smart enough to roll, Ralof got too beat up, and they had to leave him behind. They made it to the keep, and took a moment to breathe. "How in the name of The Nine did you fight in a dress woman?" He shook his head.

"I'm an elf, dear Jarl. I can do a lot more than you think I can." Tori jests. She waves her hand, and her Golden dress is replaced with a similar dress. It instead was Stormcloak Blue, with criss-crossing black leather straps on her torso and arms. The leather for her torso crossed from just above mid-chest to her waist, holding some long-daggers for easy retrieval. The leather on her arms started at her wrist and ended an inch above her elbow, and the last half-inch of sleeve at the wrist almost had a slight ruche to it. (Think of the dress barmaids wear…) there were no shoulders, and the –sweetheart- neckline showed her scar. With her eyes; they were now angry and an Aetherium Icy shade. She looked like a fierce Nord; were in not for the pointed ears.

"Let's move My Jarl, we'll most likely fin-" she stopped as she heard the Imperial Captain- The one who ordered her Death- and Hadvar. 'We should get out of here and head to Riverwood. If in any way some Stormcloaks manage to escape we should warm the village and then report back to Solitude. My uncle could help us, rations a place to sleep… the likes." They opened the gate and-

"Lessi Aylein?"

"Tori Christova? Well, well… you haven't changed a bit Tori." 'Lessi' said. Tori responded with a "Likewise" and waved her hand over the two. Their red Imperial uniforms turned into rebel blue ones.

"You're coming with us, Lessi. I won't fight you when it comes down to choosing a side." Vicktorriya wanted her best friend of fifteen years to come with her, she wouldn't deny that. But when the two shook their heads, the girl waved her hand again and they were knocked out cold.

So the Jarl of Windhelm, and Vicktorriya Christova escaped from Helgen, leaving the two Imperials unconscious in their wake.

_**Dovahkiin- Naal Ok Zin Las Vahriin, Chapter One,**_

**Windhelm**

**Just outside the Palace of the Kings**

**Midnight**

**Tori's Point of View **

"That was a noble thing you did you know… Asking them to come with us." The Jarl said just outside the Palace of the Kings. I raised a brow; as I had not asked them, I told them. "I was saying it nicely…" He added.

"Ulfric! We were worried you might not have come back. I'm glad to see everyone else was wrong." A gravelly voice said, just as I was about to retort. "Who is this? She does not look familiar…"

"_She_ has a name, and _She_ shouldn't look familiar as _She _has never been to your province. And _She _was hoping for a little decency. But, if you're going to talk about "_She"_ right in front of her, _she _can go home." I snapped. I was tired, injured, and thirsty for something that wasn't mead or ale or wine. Or milk, even… Water; water sounded lovely…. The fur covered man just stared at me in shock. "What's the matter? Elf got your tongue, General?"

"How do you know who I am?" He asked. I had deduced from his appearance that he was important. And the battleaxe on his back, well… It screams _"I'm an important General!" _in my face.

"Appearance. The furry dress, and battleaxe, and the gloves, and the headdress. You know what I mean, General?" Ulfric laughed, the General was displeased.

"We need soldier's _elf, _not a bloody child." I froze. My eyes widened and turned dark and sad. I backed away; that's what _he _called me. It's what _he _said when I had gotten bangs for my hair (which I still have).

_My world goes black… _

_**Dovahkiin- Naal Ok Zin Los Vahriin, Chapter One,**_

_**Flashback-**_

_She walks into her and her father's house, coming home from getting her hair cut. It had grown to her knees, and had it cut to her waist; with bangs. "Father, I'm home from Valerica's House!" she said in the hallway. She hung up her cloak on a peg, and turned around to have herself being pinned against the wall, and her father's alcoholic breath invade her own._

_ "So, my 'baby' returns from her little "Safe Haven" eh? And this hair… how sweet." He threw her to the floor. "You imbecile weasel! You're trying to seduce me by looking like your mother you filthy; nasty; bloody; Child!" With each word, she was whipped. Those scars have faded from years ago. The only one that remained was the 'X' he drew on her heart with an ebony-made elven-style dagger; trying to kill her._

_ The front door is ripped off its hinges and before Tori's father could plunge the dagger straight through the 'X' –To look like this; "__X__"- a man with five times normal strength tossed Toren Christova into the open. "My Vicktorriya, my sweet, innocent Vicktorriya. He will pay for this, my love. He will pay, and he will be put where he can never harm you again." A young, fifteen year-old Harkon Volkihar said to his best friend and love of his existence. When they turned seventeen on the Thirty-First of Morning Star, it would be their last day ageing. They would rule Tamriel together forever, and Vicktorriya would be happy and strong._

_ "H-Harkon… You came…" She said almost dreamily. He nodded and Cast a strong healing spell over her. The 'X' wound closed and stopped bleeding over her mossy green dress and pale skin; but the scar remained there, as an identical one drew itself on Harkon's own chest. "I love you, don't forget that Harkon." Tori smiled. "But it's time for me to change. And we will meet again one day. Only you will remember our love." And she faded into a black dusty mist._

_**Dovahkiin- Naal Ok Zin Los Vahriin, Chapter One,**_

**Volkihar Castle**

**Harkon's Room**

**Same-time as Tori's Flashback**

He feels it, the scar tingles. His Vicktorriya was back… As promised, he became a servant to their mighty Lord, Molag Bal on their seventeenth birthday. He stopped ageing. If he was lucky, so did she. Harkon and Vicktorriya had a mortal blood bond given by Lord Molag as a gift for their faithfulness. That's how he got that scar that day. He walked out of his study and saw Feran walk out of a room filled with at least twenty coffins.

"Feran, could you please get Garan and tell him to see me in my study? It's an old urgent matter that re-came about." Feran nodded, but he had a slight look of shock in his face. Harkon has never said please or some-what explained his reasons. It must be pretty urgent then. Harkon walked back in his study, and seconds later Garan walked in.

"You asked for me, My Lord?" Garan said. The Volkihar nodded and gestured to the seat next to him. Garan sat down. "It's an old urgent matter, My Lord?"

"Garan, remember when I told you about the "X" scar over my heart?" Garan's eyes widened at his words and came to understand what Harkon was telling him.

"Vicktorriya is back."


	2. Vith, Grohiik and Dovah

Dovahkiin- Naal Ok Zin Los Vahriin, Chapter Two

_**The Palace of the Kings**_

_**Random Guest Bedroom**_

_**Third Person Point of View**_

__"She's obviously had a troubled past Galmar. What you said sparked a memory, and we're all pretty sure it wasn't a good one." Ulfric stated to his old friend of twenty-four years. Galmar looked worried, and took a large slug of mead. "She was shivering, and she whimpered something about someone named Toren Christova. Christova is her last name, so I'm assuming it could be anyone of relation to her. A brother, cousin, father or even a husband; though I doubt she's married…" The Jarl trailed off.

_"'Don't hurt me… please… No!'" _Her screams went through both of their minds. "It must be her father Galmar. She smelled of alcohol when I picked her up, and she never drank any mead. He might have left some sort of curse or magickal trauma on her… Galmar; you don't think he-?"

"Yes, he did My Jarl. Toren Christova was an Akavir Royal in the first era. Yes, I'm thousands of years old Ulfric. I stopped ageing at seventeen; a process I'm not explaining. But he needed an heir for the throne. My mother had me, so he killed her when I was five because my mother couldn't have any more children. He beat me every day when I came home from the market/ I had taken up my mother's place as a flower seller. She sold the most beautiful ivy vines for décor and vibrant dragon's tongue and soft mountain flowers. I miss her so much; and Valerica… well I don't know… I have a feeling she hurt my friend." Tori added after she felt a pang in her heart thinking about Valerica and Harkon. And even Valerica's little sister, Serana- would the sweet girl even be alive?

**Dovahkiin- Naal Ok Zin Los Vahriin, Chapter Two, **

**Fort Dawnguard/Dayspring Canyon **

**Just Inside the Doors**

**Third Person Point of View**

"Dragonborn, are you; eh boy? What's this about a Vithsebrom and a Grohiiksebrom?" Isran asked the tired, injured 'boy' in banded iron armor with a steel sword and hide shield that had fallen to the ground moments ago.

"Two more, there are others… Vithsebrom; The Snake of the North, A woman to be feared; most likely Altmeri with Breton blood; long blonde hair and good with a bow. Grohiiksebrom; The Wolf of the North, another young woman to be feared; most likely Khajiit with Nord blood; almost waist length hair, good with daggers and magick." The Orsimer teen with Redguard blood told him. He had black thick dreadlocks that came to his mid-back. His skin was a pale green, with brown war paint/tattoos that looked like a dragon circling his neck with his tail, with most of its body on his right cheek, and the brown dragon's long neck stretched across his forehead and rested over the middle of his thick left brow. He was built, and because of his human blood he had none of his canines poking out, or any tusks at all.

"And what about you boy? What's your fancy title that means you're destined to save the world?" Isran did not believe the Orsimer/Redguard boy's words at all. The possibility of _Three Dragonborns? _What were the Nine up to?

**Dovahkiin- Naal Ok Zin Los Vahriin, Chapter Two,**

**The Ratway**

**The Cistern**

**Mercer Frey's Desk**

**Third Person Point of View**

"What do you mean, two other Dragonborns, S'rathira?" Mercer Frey asked his confident. Only she knew why Karliah went crazy and killed Gallus. The Guild had kept it a secret that they had the Dragonborn in their highest ranks. "Are they imposters we need to take out with our contacts in the Brotherhood?" S'rathira shook her head. Mercer's eyes widened. "Three Dragonborns in Skyrim S'rathira! How do we want to find them?"

"I'm pretty sure I know where they are, Guildmaster. I just need some time, and I might not want to drag then to the _Flagon _as it may not be a good impersonation. We've all been sent forward in time like Alduin himself. This 'Vithsebrom' is most likely from the first era before the empire and has a dark past. The 'Dovahsebrom' is defiantly from the third era. The 'Dovahsebrom' is most likely the Hero of Kvatch, and a servant of Sheogorath. The 'Vithsebrom' is defiantly _not _the Eternal Champion. She's probably not even related to her. The Snake has got to be a servant of Molag Bal… And then there's Me. The 'Grohiiksebrom', I serve Nocturnal and am from the Beginning of the Fourth era. I served Nocturnal in my last life, and was reborn from the Evergloam." Her furry ears twitched, her fluffy tail flicked, and her Nord -like face contorted into confusion.

"We know you're listening Brynjolf. Come on over so you can hear us more clearly." S'rathira raised a brow at Frey's words. He never did that when he caught someone doing something of that nature. Bryn came over. "So we should find the two other Dragonborns. The three of us need to split up, we have one of the three obviously…" S'rathira said when Bryn was within a comfortable distance. "I should go for the other female Dragonborn, and you two should go for the male. If we come across the wrong one you need to know the description from my dream. The Male is an Orsimer with Redguard blood, built and ripped like a mountain, dark dreadlocks about mid-back with a dragon tattoo on his face; and the Female is an Altmer with Breton blood with long blonde hair-about waist length- with a scar over her heart in the shape of an X. She's curvy-" Bryn perked up at that, _"__**Boys…**_" "Lightly armored and quick; agile; and smarter than a whip. He's heavily armored, good with a sword, and… well; an Orc." The two nodded and made to leave.

"Oh yeah; boys! Dragon-boy is on his way here. To the Rift. Stop him before he reaches High Hrothgar. Meet him at the top; at the stairs of the Monastery. I bet he's had a dream too, he'll probably expect you. I'll meet you there with The Snake." They acknowledged her words and dashed into the night. "Vithsebrom; Windhelm… Oh goodie another chance to side with the rebels. Talos; make sure I don't get captured." The Khajiit/Nord silently whispered/prayed.

**Dovahkiin-Naal Ok Zin Los Vahriin, Chapter Two**

**Hidden Training Room**

**Palace of the Kings**

**Vicktorriya/Third Person Point of View**

Tori had to admit the dark green leather vest/corset and matching gauntlets, leggings and boots were impressive. The corset/vest looked like someone took the vest from a set of hide armor and carved ivy all over it. The leggings matched and the skin tight leather boots, (-Think of Dark Brotherhood boots-) with a half inch heel were amazingly comfortable. The fingerless gauntlets were perfect for shooting and knife throwing as even though they reached just an inch over her elbow they didn't cut off circulation. Her hair was in the normal fishtail braids, almost falling to her waist even over her shoulders. She was hitting target after target with deadly accuracy and grace; picturing them as Toren Christova. She now went by her mother's maiden name; Kaiyne. Toren was long dead now; Harkon probably made sure of that.

"You have good skill in the shadows, Grohiiksebrom. I compliment you." She said in her Norse/Irish accent. Vicktorriya pointed her ivory bow towards were S'rathira was standing. "But I suggest you come out from your place. I also see you do not have the Dovahsebrom with you?" S'rathira stepped from the shadows and Vicktorriya lowered her bow. "We are to meet him; Yes Thira?"

"Yes we are Tori; I compliment you as well. You have amazing grace with the bow. And daggers I see as well." Thira sent a pointed looked towards the target where it seemed to have rained daggers and stilettos before the thief had gotten there. Tori collected her arrows and knives and restrapped everything together. Her Akavir daggers went to her thighs, in her boots, and two concealed behind her back at her hips. "Let's go then, Vicktorriya."

**Dovahkiin-Naal Ok Zin Los Vahriin, Chapter Two**

**The 7.000 Steps**

**Just before the Stairs to**

**High Hrothgar**

The way was cold, but that had not stopped Kaye-Mog from the ascent of the great mountain. His Orsimer blood from his mother and Redguard blood from his father might not have helped with the cold, but the seven bottles of mead in the tavern in Ivarstead had. He couldn't feel a thing. His Orsimer and Redguard blood _did _however help when it came to the four wolves, and frost troll he slaughtered. He had terrifying battle prowess and was a fierce warrior thanks to his ancestors. He stopped just at the first step to the monastery. "I know you're there, allies of Grohiiksebrom. You can come out now, I am here!" He said, and to men clad in black leather- Mercer Frey and Brynjolf- emerged from hiding behind the statue on the stairs.

"Hello boys, hope you didn't have to wait so long for little ol' us." An Irish/Norse accent said behind them. The three men turned to see a black cloaked archer in green leather and S'rathira approach. "Ah ha; Excellent timing for us eh, Toria?" Thira said to the Elven/Breton girl. She nodded, as they came closer to the two leather clad thieves and the third Dragonborn. The Khajiit/Nord girl exchanged nods with the thieves and shook the Orsimer/Redguard boy's hand. "I assume we all know that all three of us have been sent forward in time?" Thira said. "I was born in 3E 410, so I'm theoretically 214 years old. What about you guys?"

It turns out that Kaye-Mog is from the third era as well. Kaye-Mog was born 3E 380's and is about 230 years. Vicktorriya is the oldest; she was born 1E 113 during the time the Nordic King Harald had founded the first human kingdom on the continent of all of Tamriel. She was sent forward in time when she was fifteen, in 1E 128 when something happened which she would not tell of. Vicktorriya Roseabelle Kaiyne was 4,312 years old theoretically speaking. The three turned out to be powerful immortals blessed by Akatosh (all of them) Nocturnal (S'rathira) Molag Bal (Vicktorriya) and Sheogorath (Kaye-Mog).

"We should head in, yes Thira; Tori?" The three climbed the steps to the monastery and entered, side by side.

**Dovahkiin-Naal Ok Zin Los Vahriin, Chapter Two**

**High Hrothgar**

**The 'Meeting' Room**

"Not one Dragonborn in this coming of age, but three from eras ago." Arngeir says after greeting the three, and after they explained their situation. "So; the three of you have discovered each other and come here. But how do you know you are of the dragon blood if you have not even come across a word of power? No Thu'um has crossed your lips, no soul of any dragon has settled in your very essence. We believe you of course Dragonborns, but how would you even know of each other?"

"It came to us in visions, daydreams, and dreams Thuri Arngeir. It came across me while I was training with my bow and daggers. It was short, and I saw the three of us bring a dragon down with our Thu'um; my magick, Kaye's sword, and Thira's shivs. But that's all it was, I don't know if it was a vision meant to tell me who I am and whom I was to look for or prophecy or both. But we found each other, and we think this means something Thuri. If we are meant to save the world together then we won't be alone. But by our pasts and presents we're not sure we have it in our hearts to try. What if it was part daydream and we cower in the face of Danger and Death?" Tori spoke, and the silent Greybeards exchanged glances with each other. Arngeir was getting too old; and the remaining three could feel the power of the Thu'um in her and her voice. They felt it in Kaye-Mog and S'rathira too. The three Dragonborns were strong and would prosper well.

"It came to me when I was speaking to a client. Our highest client actually; they looked like I was insane when I blacked out for a moment and started muttering in dragon tongue. I'm glad the Guildmaster was there to save my hide. Otherwise I'd probably have a Brotherhood contract on me." S'rathira said to the other two quietly.

"It was a vision alright; I had it when I was at the Whiterun gates. The guards looked at me weirdly when I'd said I'd come back and ran to Helgen. I found two survivors; Hadvar and Lessi in the ruin of the keep." Tori almost sighed in relief. She met Lessi- No; now was not the time to dwindle on the past.

"You comin' Tori; or are you just gonna sit there?" Kaye's voice broke her of her stupor. She shot up and threw a dagger into the stone wall just next to his head off by centimeters. '_Or maybe one centimeter… It was a good throw; even in her stupor she had enough time to defend herself. We need her in the guild.'_

_ 'Who do you want to put in my guild woman?' _Mercer's voice rang in her head. '_I caught good throw and need in guild. Who was it and what did they throw?' _S'rathira had formed a mental bond with Mercer and never broke it. She said she would; she lied.

'_Little miss Victory just threw a dagger into a stone wall centimeters from Kaye-Mog's head, and she was completely lost in her thoughts less than seconds before, too. Didn't even make a sound; barley made out the swish of the blade.' _

Mercer was silent.

_**Dovahkiin-Naal Ok Zin Los Vahriin, Chapter Two**_

**High Hrothgar**

**Outside; Courtyard**

"You want us to warn the people of Whiterun about the dragons _and_ crawl through a dungeon that's thousands of years old and grab you a pretty horn?" S'rathira looked at the old and probably dying Greybeard with disbelief. She crawled around the Ratway to prove Mercer was innocent and that Karliah was lying –which turned out to be true- but she was not crawling around in the resting places of the dead for artifacts that may or not be there because an old man said so.

"I think I'd sooner bend my knee to the Thalmor. I am an Altmer yes; but I hate the Thalmor with a loathing. The Thalmor are a stupid _branch _of the Dominion. The corrupt, black sheep _branch _of the Dominion. One bad barrel had to ruin it for the rest of the batch. But still, you get the point?" Tori did _not _

"How about we do it this way," Kaye started looking between the three. "You two go talk to the Jarl and I'll fetch the horn. We can regroup in Riverwood at the inn. How about that plan; okay then girls?" The said 'girls' nodded.

'_Mercer; we're going to Whiterun- Toor and I. Kaye is going to crawl around some tomb for a stupid horn.'_

_ 'I'll follow you, I don't trust Brynjolf around "Toor" as he's basically drooling over her at the moment…'_

S'rathira only smiled.


End file.
